Don't look at me like that. I never said this would have a happy ending.

"Heartbreak is a burden to us all. Pity the man with two."

- Madame Vastra

In the days following the end of the paradox, Martha made sure someone was with the Doctor at all times. She didn't think he was suicidal but she wouldn't put it past him to try something foolish.

On the Valiant, there had been a weird little jump in time. One second the Master had been on his feet and the Doctor was lunging towards him, the next the Master was on the ground and the Doctor in a completely different spot looking for all the world like he had just had both hearts painfully broken. Martha knew Bad Wolf was to blame. She'd needed to speak with him and she must've messed with time to do it. The Master's death had been her fault, too. There was simply no other explanation for his sudden relocation and death. And from the expression on his face, it had not been painless.

It had not taken very long at all for the Doctor to snap out of whatever daze he was lost in and notice Master dead on the floor. After that he just…shut down. He spoke when needed, answered questions presented to him, but all of his usual enthusiasm was gone. He looked at the world like it had nothing left to offer him.

When he went into the TARDIS for the first time, he hadn't reacted beyond a sigh. He'd been very detached, border lining on apathetic as he made his way around the console room, the engine room, and several other rooms she'd never seen before and took stock of everything the Master had done. He'd asked Jack to make a list of everything because he wasn't sure if he could remember it. Coming from the man who knew the first 10,000 digits of pi by heart, this was very worrying.

He'd scared the life out of her and Jack when he disappeared on the third night, only to come back smelling strongly of smoke. He told them he'd cremated the Master. Monster or not, he had a right to a Gallifreyan send-off, and this way no one would be able to use his body for science, upsetting the flow of human history. While he seemed more at ease after that, he was still not in any way back to his usual self, largely due to the fact that there had been no sign of Rose.

All the people who had been on the Valiant when the year began hadn't been there when it ended. They'd all turned up in the middle of a parking lot in South England with no memory of how they'd arrived, and very scrambled memories of what had happened on the ship's bridge. Rose had not been among them. Jack had placed calls to everyone he could think of to see if she'd turned up somewhere. None of her friends and family had seen her. According to Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, she had not turned up at UNIT, nor had he seen her personally. He made a trip to the Hub but no one was there. Sarah Jane Smith's computer, Mr. Smith, could not locate Rose's biosignature anywhere on planet Earth and neither the woman nor her son had seen her.

And the TARDIS could not scan for her because she was still out of commission. Being turned into a paradox machine and then being shot up apparently wasn't good for her health. She was in some sort of self-healing coma and the Doctor spent his days repairing the things she could not.

Martha knew her family needed her but she was very worried about the Doctor and ended up spending a lot of her time in the ship with him. When she wasn't with him, Jack was. Things got better after Sarah Jane turned up with a little robot dog called K-9 that greeted him in a chipper little voice, "Master!"

Martha had glanced nervously at the Doctor, expecting him to react poorly to the name, but the Doctor had smiled and patted the dog on its head. "Hey there, boy. Did you come to help me fix the Old Girl?"

K9 bobbed his head up and down and the little antenna-like tail on his rear twitched. "Affirmative."

Sarah Jane volunteered to keep watch over the Doctor so Martha could focus more on her family, and Jack could deal with the political fallout. And K-9 was able to help with repairs and diagnostics.

During the second day when Jack was filling in for Sarah Jane, the woman came to find Martha and admitted that she didn't really have any idea what was going on. So Martha explained as best as she could what had happened during the last year and why it had never happened. Sarah Jane was utterly horrified and when Martha told her that Rose had died, tears formed in the woman's eyes and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"So that's why…. I knew she was missing but the Captain didn't tell me that she… Oh, God, no wonder you don't want him left alone. …No, wait. You said everything that happened was undone. Shouldn't she be here?"

So Martha told her everything she knew about the Bad Wolf, finishing off with the explanation she'd been given regarding why Rose might not come back.

"And you think she didn't make it in time," Sarah Jane deduced afterwards. She looked troubled. "That would explain my Mr. Smith wasn't able to locate her. If she was dead he could at least find her body, but if she was lost in time, then there wouldn't be anything left to find."

Martha nodded.

Sarah Jane took a deep breath. "You know, the Doctor once told me that in times of old, Gallifreyans were passionate creatures. It was because of their telepathy. Everything from grief to joy, hate to love, they felt it so much more potently than we do. Of course most that had been stamped out of their natures by the Doctor's time, but I suspect, being born like he was, he had more of his kind's original nature from the start. But, I wondered after he told me this, how his people were able to handle loss if they felt it so keenly. Humans have been known to die of broken hearts after the loss of their spouse. If Gallifreyans loved more strongly than we do, then I imagine death from broken hearts must have happened quite frequently."

"Yeah, I bet it did," Martha murmured. "You don't think he…"

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't now. I'll need to speak with Jack about the Doctor's behavior onboard the Valiant. But, Martha, you were right to keep him under careful watch."

Martha nodded again. He wasn't human, after all, and they had no idea what a Gallifreyan might do after losing his mate.

It was a week before the TARDIS was well enough to reform her corridors and rooms. Sarah Jane took to sleeping onboard, as did Martha and Jack. No amount of teamwork managed to get the Doctor into a bed even though, according to Jack, he hadn't slept in three weeks. Martha knew he hadn't been sleeping lately out of fear of nightmares. She remembered Rose telling her he suffered from vicious nightmares that she alone had been able to keep at bay. Without her there, any sleep he got would not be peaceful.

He didn't change clothes often. Only when the ones he was wearing got dirty and soiled enough for his keeper to protest. He was always wearing something blue—the exact shade of his blue suit to be specific. Martha wondered at the significance of the color. Was dark blue to Gallifreyans what black was to humans?

Eating was also something that had to be forced. She, Jack, and Sarah Jane always told whoever had the next shift if he'd eaten, and if he went through two shifts without eating, the third always made sure he ate. But he was still losing weight. One day she found him in Rose's room, curled on the bed they shared with his eyes closed. He didn't react to Martha's arrival, didn't open his eyes as she called his name. But she knew better than to think he was sleeping. He was far too tense.

Throughout it all, though, he continued repairing the TARDIS. It was his outlet, his way to make himself useful in a world that was passing him by. He was adrift without his anchor and the four of them (including K-9) were just enough to keep him tethered to sanity. Their shifts usually were spent sitting with him in the console room, handing him tools, holding things, or telling him if a little light on the console or some other doohickey was blinking. Jack and K-9 were actually able to help him with repairs.

And, boy, did the TARDIS need them. Almost every single system had been mutilated and manipulated and they all had to be repaired. Some parts were completely trashed, which involved many runs to the Torchwood Hub as well as UNIT bases and storage facilities across the world to find suitable replacements. The TARDIS apparently had the ability to regrow certain vital components, and when that function was back online, their trips became less frequent.

Her family were faring a little better than he was. Her parents apparently had worked enough things out between them that they were comfortable together again. Nothing like a year in a purgatory to bring people together. "We're far from okay," her mum had told her one day as they sat at the kitchen table with two mugs of tea. "We've still got a lot to work through. Right now, I just… We don't want to be apart."

"What about his girlfriend?" Martha asked. She knew her dad had had one but details, like the woman's name, had slipped away. It began with 'An', she remembered. Anika? Angel? Anna? Anna sounded about right. It'd been a long time since she'd given thought to the woman and longer since she'd seen her. But she remembered she'd been a bit of a bimbo, not the kind of woman her dad needed after what he'd been through.

Francine rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. "She's not going to be around anymore." She set her cup down on the table. "Apparently you, Rose, Jack, and the Doctor were labeled terrorists at some point. You've been exonerated in light of Saxon's conspiracy, but she doesn't like the fact your father was arrested. Or that he's been sleeping at my house every night. She called me a cow and accused me of stealing her man."

Martha nearly spat out her tea. She managed to swallow before she gasped out, "No! Oh you're kidding me! What did you tell her?"

"That it wasn't my fault she wasn't doing it for him."

"But isn't that what she—" Martha's eyes widened and Francine smiled wickedly. She threw her head back and laughed so loud and hard that her belly ached. It felt good, laughing like that with her mother. They hadn't done that in a very, very long time. Well over two years for Martha.

The thought sobered her and her laughter slowly died out. She turned to look out the window of their kitchen where the TARDIS was clearly visible in the backyard. Francine followed her gaze.

"Still no sign?"

Martha shook her head. "She had all that time to prepare. She knew how precise she'd have to be. She told me she'd be ready. I want to believe she made it. I really do but…it's been nearly two weeks. If she were alive, you think she'd at least have found a phone by now."

"Don't let him hear you say that," her mum warned sharply. She and the Doctor had developed a rapport during their time onboard the Valiant. Martha'd known about it for a while now but it was still surprising to see her mum being protective of the man she'd once despised

"I won't," she assured her. "But I'm sure he's already thought of it."

"You know, the day the Master told us about her, one of the guards let slip earlier that morning that someone had died and the Master was excited. I thought it was you." Her lips trembled at the memory. "You don't know how relieved I was when he said you were alive. I was glad it was her and not you." She glanced at her daughter and looked away, ashamed. "But then I saw the Doctor's face—he hardly ever showed emotion in those days and he looked so distraught. And he was crying—"

She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I would have given anything in that moment to bring her back to him."

"I promised her I'd take care of him," Martha blurted out.

Francine looked at her in alarm. She schooled her features immediately and took a sip of her tea. "I see."

"She was dying, Mum, right there in my arms and I couldn't do anything! I'm a doctor for God's sake. I should've been able to do something. If I'd had the right tools I could've saved her. Giving her peace of mind was the only thing I could do." She paused and took a deep breath, blinking back tears. "And now I don't even know if I can help him. Humans have trouble enough when our hearts break. Imagine how it'll be for an alien with two. He's going to need everyone he has left. …But I want to stay with you. I want to go back to med-school. I'm tired of traveling."

Francine inhaled slowly through her nose and considered her for a long minute. "I don't know how to help either of you. You're going to have to decide on your own what's best for you. I won't deny he needs people with him but if he cares for you at all, then he will understand no matter what you decide."

"I know he will. That's what worries me. He'll understand no matter what and he won't try to stop me, even if it hurts him."

She didn't tell him what she was considering but she wasn't entirely sure that he didn't already know. The way he looked at her when she came 'round for her shifts, the questions he asked. Like if she planned on continuing to sleep in her bed onboard the TARDIS. Had she given any thought to where she'd like to go next?

Thirteen days after TARDIS repairs began, the Doctor turned up at her door at 9am to tell her that they were heading to Cardiff soon. He'd done all he could for the TARDIS as far as physical repairs went. Now all she needed was to recharge.

"A big ol' meal of rift energy. A day of that and she'll be all systems go." The words were right, the inflections and everything were too, but the energy and the cheer that should accompany it were missing. "Jack's coming obviously but Sarah Jane says she needs to get back to her son. You goin' or stayin'?"

"Going," she said.

The TARDIS wasn't able to fly yet so Jack had gotten them a lorry that would transport the ship to Cardiff. Martha and Doctor remained inside for the duration of the trip while Jack rode with the driver. Probably got his number, too. Once they were in Cardiff and the TARDIS was situated just off the Plass—Jack complaining that the Doctor's favorite spot to park his ship was actually the entrance to their secret elevator and they might need it—Jack invited them down into the Hub.

The Doctor refused and quickly set out to explore Cardiff. Not wanting to leave him on his own, Martha followed. He allowed her to keep up with him, though she doubted he'd actually be able to ditch her even if he wanted to. He may have been physically superior but she'd spent the last year on the move while he'd been stuck on a spaceship. She had an edge.

"Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

Martha blinked at him. "What?"

The Doctor didn't look at her as he continued to walk. "You, Jack, Sarah Jane, don't think I haven't noticed you're taking shifts on me. I've barely had a moment alone since the Valiant."

"You don't want us around?"

"I don't mind the company. It's the reason behind the company that irks me." Now he did look at her. "And babysitting me wasn't Jack's idea, was it Dr. Jones?"

"We're just concerned for you."

"You think I'm going to do something stupid. Well, I don't plan on killing myself, so you can stop."

She pressed her lips together. "Don't think I will, actually."

He glowered down at her. Once that expression might have intimidated her but not anymore. "That's not gonna work on me," she told him bluntly. "You're stuck with me for a while yet so you might as well get over it."

"You're not staying behind, then?"

"I want to," she admitted. "I might. But, at least until you leave Earth, I'm with you. …I made a promise."

He sucked in a sharp breath and ducked his head. "Oh."

They walked in silence for a time. The entered a park that was mostly empty and the Doctor veered towards the playground. There were a few children playing on the equipment and a handful of parents sat on nearby benches. One mother was at the top with her son while the father waited at the bottom of the slide to catch him. The swings were empty until the two time travelers sat down, rocking just a bit, feet dragging along in the mulch.

This seemed like a good place to ask the questions she'd been wanting to. And he had a way to escape if he didn't want to answer or found it too painful.

"Doctor… what did your people do…when they lost their spouses?"

He didn't answer right away. Martha glanced over and saw he had his eyes closed. "That depended. If it was a typical Time Lord marriage, often there was a period of mourning following the memorial and cremation. But the surviving spouse would recover and get on with their life. Usually they'd remarry. But among the common Gallifreyans…those who loved and formed intimate telepathic bonds... the surviving spouse never fully recovered. They were so intimately joined that losing their partner was like losing part of themselves. Many died of grief."

"You and Rose didn't…"

"No," he whispered. "But I—I wanted…" The Doctor shook his head quickly and looked down at his wrist where he had Rose's necklace wrapped.

"Would it…make you feel better if we had a ceremony with your people's customs?" Martha asked.

He shook his head quickly. "No, no. Why? I haven't even had a chance to look for her yet. Properly. I can do scans Sarah's computer couldn't. I've got the TARDIS, too, once she wakes up. Rose has got traces of Huon particles. Practically unique in the universe! …You have to give me a chance," the Doctor pleaded. "I can't just take your word for it."

"I know you do. We all need you to. But I meant…if you can't…we would have some sort of funeral for her ourselves. Jack says that Torchwood's got protocols for this sort of thing but he'd overturn them. She's got family and friends that deserve to know. But we thought you might like it if—"

"You're planning her funeral?" he rasped. "You haven't even let me look for myself and you…"

Martha searched his dark, intense eyes. In that moment she could see just how truly desperate he was. She'd witnessed his struggle to get by from day to day without a vital part of himself. But he, like all of them, had been waiting for Rose to appear. Perhaps expecting it to happen at any moment. Now fourteen days after time reversed, he was clinging to the last vestiges of hope with everything he had. To find out those closest to Rose were already planning a funeral….

The Doctor sniffed and worked his jaw a bit, obviously fighting back tears. He pushed off the swings and took off at a brisk pace towards the park exit, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in his pockets, coat billowing around his legs. Martha did not follow.

The TARDIS was powered up enough for her scanners to work by that evening. The Doctor spent the rest of the night running every scan he could think of, even ones that wouldn't have helped if they knew for a fact she was somewhere on the planet. He searched for her biosignature, TARDIS keys (which Jack cross-referenced with the addresses of known companions), Huon particles (which registered a faint trace at the home of one Donna Noble), and even the signature of the necklace he had around his wrist just in case an identical one was reformed with Rose. He looked for anomalies in time, he used the data the Master's people had collected about Rose's altered biosignature. Each search came up empty and as time wore on, the Doctor's mood became bleaker.

"Doc, you need to stop and take a break." Jack suggested around four in the morning. "Eat something. Actually sleep for once. You'll be amazed what a little nap will do. Maybe you'll think of something else—"

"No," the Time Lord croaked.

"Please, just—"

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW?" the Doctor roared, rounding on him. Jack held his ground but Martha backed away. "DON'T YOU THINK I HAVEN'T TRIED? I CAN'T SLEEP."

"Doc, you're grieving. I get that. I know what you're going through. But you need to try and if you'll let us, we'll help you."

"You're not sleeping with me, Jack," he growled through his teeth.

"Why not? It helped Rose."

The Doctor's expression went from incredulous to murderous. "What?"

"She missed you. She had trouble sleeping those first few weeks. She went for two days with almost no sleep before she finally came to me about it. After that, until she got her own room and bed, she slept in mine. We didn't have sex," he told him bluntly when the Doctor continued to scowl. "She just needed someone to hold her."

The Doctor shook his head back and forth slowly, no longer angry, just resigned. "I don't need someone. I need her."

"She said the same about you."

He sighed and sank into the jump seat, burying his face in his hands.

"He's right about you needing sleep, though," Martha added. "What's it been for you? A month? We all know that's too long. Maybe once you've rested you'll think of something else."

"No, but that's just it. I've run through everything. Rose isn't here. The parameters of the Huon scan alone covered the entire galaxy. There's nothing."

Martha cocked her head to the side. Around them, the TARDIS hummed steadily like it had been doing for the last eight hours. Her eyes widened and she nearly smacked herself on the forehead for not realizing sooner. "There is one thing you haven't tried yet."

Jack spun around. "What?"

"Has anyone else noticed how quiet the TARDIS is? I thought up until now she hadn't been responding because she was in her healing coma. But now she's definitely awake and she's still not talking. Usually the lights flicker or the rotor if she wants us to know what she thinks about something. She hasn't. TARDIS," she looked up at the ceiling. "Move the rotor up and down."

She and Jack looked at the rotor expectantly. Nothing happened. "See?" she insisted. "Something's not right."

The Doctor slowly raised his head. "What are you getting at, Martha?"

"Rose has a piece of the TARDIS's consciousness in her mind. They were going to separate when the paradox ended just in case Rose didn't make it back. What if that piece was more important than we thought?" She looked between Jack and the Doctor. "I spent a lot of time with Bad Wolf. There were things that were definitely Rose and things that definitely weren't. She said she was equal parts TARDIS and Rose. Rose was a full human consciousness. So the part of the TARDIS that was with her had to be the exact equivalent. What if…the part of herself she transferred to Rose…was everything that made her…well…her?"

"What do you mean?"

"We're in the TARDIS but I don't think she is. I think this is just the ship running on autopilot. Doctor, have you been able to speak with her?"

The Doctor blinked then slowly shook his head.

"So…where's her mind gone?" Martha let the question hang in the air. "We just assumed she would come back to her body but what if she didn't? What if she went back to Rose?" She turned to the Doctor. "Turn off all the…things keeping it parked. Let the TARDIS fly itself. We both know it can."

Jack made a face and shook his head. "If you're right and it really is just a shell then it can't compensate for any error he might make, any shifts or changes in the walls of reality or flow of time. We could end up dead ourselves or stuck in the Void."

But the Doctor was already on his feet and racing around the console. "So get off if you like. But this ship's heading out in exactly fifteen seconds and anyone still onboard goes with us."

Jack and Martha exchanged a questioning look. She was staying. Unless this ended the way they hoped, he was going to need someone and there was no guarantee he'd come back to Earth.

"I can't risk it. Someone has to stay here and defend this planet." He pointed at the Doctor sternly as he backed towards the door. "If you find her, I expect to see both of you my Hub this afternoon. She still works for me."

"4…3…2…" the Doctor said loudly, hand hovering over the dematerialization switch. Jack grabbed the door handle and bolted out, slamming it shut behind him. Martha dropped to the floor and curled her fingers around the grating. "1."

She'd been correct in her assumption that this was going to be a violent ride. Jack hadn't been kidding about the ship being unable to compensate for anything though she'd never realized just how much the TARDIS had done in the past. The lights flickered ominously around them and the grating of the rotor seemed louder than ever. It was difficult to hear one individual thud over the shuddering and roaring of the ship around them but she noticed the Doctor was on the floor as well, clinging to the leg of the pilot's chair.

The ship landed hard, tossing Martha's lower body into the air and the metal bit into her fingers as she held on, and all the air rushed out of her as she was slammed down. But then the shaking stopped, the roaring died down, the lights settled, and the rotor fell silent. Martha lay there, gasping like a fish out of water, and slowly uncurled her sore fingers from the grating.

The Doctor raised his head, similarly gasping for air, and he peered around the room anxiously before getting to his feet.

"D'you know were we are?" Martha asked. He pulled the monitor around the console and studied the screen. She rose up to her knees and examined her hands. Her fingers were covered in red lines, some of which extended down to her palms, but none of them had broken the skin. She blew cool air on them gingerly.

"Earth," the Doctor said. "Relatively close to the date we left. …Just a few days before…" His voice was hushed, hopeful. "Approximately 44 degrees latitude, -124 degrees longitude. That's…" He closed his eyes, mouthing to himself for a few seconds, then they snapped open. "The United States Northwest."

"Like…Oregon?"

He stared at her, mouth agape, for five solid seconds. Then he was pushing off the console and racing for the door, feet thudding against the grating. He didn't bother with his coat, which hung on its usual coral strut, and his hands scrambled uselessly on the handle for a few seconds like he couldn't quite remember how to open it. Then he did.

The Doctor flung the door open and found himself in a dense forest in the late morning or early afternoon, judging from the way the sun filtered through the trees. The air was light and fresh, definitely far from any towns or pollutants, and from the little ways the ground sloped, they were likely on the edge of mountains. Time buzzed around him like it had when the paradox was undone. Was it that day again?

He stepped out of the TARDIS and raked his eyes across everything, searching for any sign of anyone. No humans had been here in some time, only animals.

No Rose.

He hadn't realized that he'd allowed himself to hope until it fell away. And it hurt. It hurt so damn much that he wanted to scream. He didn't know how he was supposed to keep going like this. He didn't know how to live without her anymore. The only thing that had kept him going during the last year was the knowledge he would see her again. Now he didn't even have that.

"Doctor?"

The Doctor spun around and…there she was. Two feet away.

Just…standing there next to the TARDIS, looking for all the word like nothing was wrong.

Like she hadn't spent half a year living it rough, died, and then spent the rest of the year as an incorporeal manifestation of the Bad Wolf. Her hair was the same soft shade of blonde, her eyes their normal brown, and she wore her blue bomber jacket, black shirt, dark jeans, and white trainers.

She was blinking every few seconds and her chest rose and fell steadily with her breaths—Bad Wolf had done either when it suited her and not out of necessity. He could feel her body heat. He could feel her mind buzzing beneath the surface but not exposed and pulsing like it had been on the Valiant. He could see a flush in her cheeks, saw the way pieces of her hair fluttered in the wind.

She was alive!

He let out a loud laugh of delight and scooped her up off the ground, spinning her around out of sheer joy.

Rose giggled near his ear, clinging to his shoulders, and caressed the back of his head. He set her down and his hands moved to her face, cradling it, then down her neck, shoulders, arms, sides, hips, then around and up her back just to prove he could. He cupped her face in his hands once again and pressed kisses everywhere he could: the apples of her cheeks, the tip of nose, her lips, her eyelids her chin, her forehead.

Then he buried his face in her hair, whispering over and over, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He didn't know who he was thanking. The universe, maybe? Time, fate, death, or maybe Rose, or perhaps Bad Wolf herself. "Thank you. Thank you."

"Is this a dream?" Rose asked.

He shook his head and pulled back so he could see her face. "Don't think so. I haven't slept in a month."

"But…then… How? Are you a future version of my Doctor? No, wait. You've got the TARDIS so you're from the past, yeah? Are you here to, um, help?"

"Help—what?" He frowned.

Rose looked at him like he was mad. "My Doctor's currently on the Valiant lookin' about sixty years older and the TARDIS is—well. So you can't be him. So where are you from?"

Oh…dear. Oh dear. This was either reeaaally good or veeeeery bad. He let his arms drop and took a step back. "What…do you remember?"

"I remember you getting turned into an old man and leaving you behind on the Valiant. Me an' Martha have been traveling ever since like you told us to. But I can't find her or—oh!" She smacked herself on the forehead. "That's right. There was a camp here." She told him, gesturing to the area around them. "We just sort of found it. Or, well, they found us."

"So you remember everything up to the camp in Oregon?" he checked. She nodded. "What's the last thing you remember happening?"

Rose opened her mouth wordlessly, closed it, and her eyes grew distant. "I was…playing with some kids…hide and seek. And then…" Her eyes flicked back and forth as if she was watching the scene play out before her. "Whistles started going off…and the…they were…" She gasped and turned around. "Oh my God! The UCFs!"

The door of the ship creaked open and he heard Martha step out. "Doctor, is she—Rose! You're okay!"

Rose whipped around at the sound of her friend's voice. "Martha, what happened? Where is everybody?"

Martha froze next to the Doctor. "What do you mean?"

"What happened to the camp that was right here? Why is it spring? And how are you with the Doctor? What's going on?!"

Martha swallowed. "Y-you remember the camp?"

"Of course I remember the camp!"

"Do you remember what happened…at the end?"

"I remember the UCFs coming but after that it's just a blur then…nothing."

The Doctor's mind was racing through every possibility. He was missing important information about the minutes leading up to Rose's death, but it wasn't hard to take a guess. Rose would never kill the Master's troops the way she had of her own volition. The Bad Wolf had to have had a role in it. It was understandable for her memories of the fight to be jumbled and confused and afterwards…well, one's own death must be traumatizing on the psyche.

The loss of her months spent as Bad Wolf was easily explained. She never remembered fully being the Bad Wolf unless prompted and even then, her memories were never complete.

Though confused, Rose was not oblivious to the shock radiating from them. She looked between Martha and the Doctor warily. "What happened?"

They could tell her what happened and leave it at that. No one else knew Bad Wolf had given him the bundle of memories to return to Rose should this very thing happen. She wouldn't ever have to remember killing those people and then…dying. But Bad Wolf had trusted him to do this and even if she never remembered, he was almost certain the TARDIS would.

"You…died," Martha whispered.

Rose blinked, face draining of blood. "I what?"

"You died. Moran was going to shoot me but you pushed me out of the way."

"I'm…dead?" Rose looked down at herself and only then seemed to realize what she was wearing. She slowly raised her arms, turning them this way and that, staring. Trembling, she leaned forward to look at her stomach and legs and her fair fell in her face. A tiny cry tore it's way from her throat as her hands flew to the blonde strands, holding them in front of her eyes, then let them drop.

She looked up at the Doctor, shaking and completely distraught. "Help me," she whimpered.

"I will," the Doctor promised and raised his hands. He took two steps forward and pressed his fingers to her temples. He eased himself into her flailing mind and brought forth the untouched bundle of memories.

I love you, he promised. Remember that, no matter what you may see.

And he transferred them to her.

Rose's mind began processing them immediately, assimilating the duplicate memories and reasserting ones that had been forgotten. He withdrew quickly to give her mind one less thing to worry about. The Doctor watched her carefully as he lowered his hands from her temples but all she did was stare blankly ahead.

"What'd you do?" Martha whispered.

"Bad Wolf gave me the memories from the last year in case Rose didn't remember. I just gave them back."

"All of them?"

"I assume."

Rose stiffened and deep within her eyes he saw flecks of gold begin to swirl in the chaotic dance of the vortex until they were shining brilliantly. Her lips parted and she inhaled slowly. "Oh."

Then she dropped like a sack of bricks. The Doctor lunged forward and caught her before she could hit the ground. Martha was a split second behind him. She helped him steady her so he could scoop her up in his arms, then ran to get the door. Rose's eyes were wide and staring, unfocused, still glowing with time. Only her heart thudding erratically in her chest reassured him that she hadn't spontaneously expired.

The moment he brought Rose inside the ship, her breathing hitched. He carried her up the ramp quickly and when he passed the console Rose's body began to glow brilliantly. Golden light seemed to seep from every pore. He very nearly dropped her in shock.

From Rose's mouth came a beautiful, haunting melody in a voice that was not hers. It filled the air, washing over him, and resonating down to his soul. The light emitting from Rose's body floated and soared around the room and began to seep into the walls. A rather large bit of light drifted up to level with his head. There was a split second where he thought he might have seen a face in there but it was gone immediately and he could not remember anything about how it had looked, or what species it might have been. The light floated around him, brushing against his body, flitting across the backs of his hands and through his hair, before it shot off like a bullet towards the console where it disappeared.

The singing ended, Rose stopped glowing, and finally her eyes slipped shut.

There were some of you who honestly believed I was gonna kill her for real, good and proper. Not just yet. She's still got a while to go. Rory, anyone?